










< o 




V '" 



^*^^x. 





















^oV" 



<^. 



> 




.v-^. 



•^•J^. 












^. 




& ^'Jt^^ 



*■ ^ 



^, 



A 



^' -^ ^^^i^^ /\ "^p^ 



.^^-V. ^'-.7.;.^-. .S'^^ ^^i:- 



.0 



-^^^ 



4 o 
















,V 






'0- ■<<> 



^"•^^. 




f~. * ^- ,- f „t' ' 




\.^^':M^\/ 















*1 'V^r^ C,-^ " 



lis* 0.-^ -^x. oVjl\]>.* 



^^^ 



v^. 



A 






>>^'^<;i. 






T:^^"' .0- 



OLD FAMILIES 



OF THE 



FIRST PARISH. 



BY 



Mrs. M. H. sage. 



Read at the Centennial of the First Parish Church, BiUcrica, 
Massachusetts, June 30, 1898. 



Printed for Private Distribution bv Joshua Bennett Holdbn, 1898. 






HLFRED MUDGE i SON, PRINTERS, 24 FRANKLIN STREET, BOSTON. 



The fathers' many worthy deeds 
The children would perpetuate, 

And here to-day within these walls 
Their memory we commemorate. 

Their ready zeal, their patient toil, 
Though sown in doubt and tears, 

Was dropped amid the richest soil ; 
Has blessed us for these many years. 

The granite shaft on yonder green 
Records the tale of valor won : 
We pause, and think how in these years 



Our God hath led us on. 



JC- ^. "'^'^ 




^Y request of our minister I shall attempt 
to recall the names of some who formerly 
worshipped here, and some things respect- 
ing the church itself; if it could speak, it 
could do it better than anyone. This ancient temple 
is very dear to many of us, for there are over a score 
of those who worship here who are the lineal descend- 
ants of those who planted this church. 

Its pleasant appearance this beautiful June day is a 
marked contrast to what it was in the early part of this 
century, when there were no fires in winter, for only 
the grandmothers and invalids of the families brought 
their footstoves. The last time that that honored ser- 
vant of God, Rev. Dr. Andrew Preston Peabody, was 
in this church, he described it as it appeared to him, 
when he was at the Pemberton Academy, a boy of 
seventeen. He said it was barn-like within, and one 
morning in January was so cold that he noticed many 
of the youths blew upon their finger-tips to warm 
them, and that it was no uncommon occurrence here 
for one whose occupation kept him much upon his feet 
or out in the open air during week days, when he felt 

(5) 



sleepy in church during the sermon, to rise and stand 
awhile, and often there would be five or six standing 
at once. 

Everyone stood in prayer time ; the prayers were 
longer then than now, and there were more of them. 
The pews had hinged seats, which were lifted at the 
beginning of prayers, and at the close of the very long 
prayer some of the roguish boys would, accidentally, 
of course, put them down with such a slam, the good 
doctor said it re-echoed through the church, and was 
like unto a volley of musketry. Those boys were for- 
given long ago. It was all the way they had for 
" getting even " with the minister, for being obliged to 
listen to such weary, dull sermons and tedious, long 
prayers. My neighbor, Miss Susan Hill, who left us 
four years ago, at the age of ninety years, told me 
that the quaint cottage on Andover Street, where 
Mr. Benson now lives, was built for a " Sabba'-day 
house," a sort of commons, where the parishioners 
from a distance could assemble at noontime to warm 
themselves and eat their dinners. Some preferred, 
she said, to be by themselves, and her father, Mr. 
Job Hill, with his large family of sons, daughters, and 
workmen, and his neighbor, Mr. John Stearns, the 
father of the late Gov. Onslow Stearns, of New 
Hampshire, hired each a front chamber in the house 
where I now live for a " noon rest." Several cords of 

(6) 



wood were prepared in the fall and brought to the 
place, and on going to church one of the boys would 
stop and build a fire in the fireplace, which would be 
cared for by some member of the family who lived 
below, detained from church for that purpose. For 
the noon lunch she said her family always carried a 
large, round, wooden butter-box, full of doughnuts, 
some home-made cheese, bread and butter, and any 
cold meat that might be handy, and a jug of cider, 
which was poured into large quart mugs and made 
hot by having irons placed in it which had been 
heated by being thrust into the coals on the hearth. 
After an hour or so the people assembled at the church 
again to hear another long sermon and long prayer. 
Before 1844, when this church was moved and 
turned half around to face the east, the pews were 
square with high partitions ; the high pulpit was 
reached by long, straight stairs. 

At that time the present pulpit and pews were 
placed here, taken from a church in Boston. 

Some have questioned whether this pulpit was the 
one from which Ralph Waldo Emerson preached. 
I wrote to his daughter, Miss Ellen Emerson, and 
this is her reply: "My father's church was the 
Second Church. Henry Ware, Jr., was the minister 
before my father, and Chandler Robbins was his suc- 
cessor. I think the meeting-house was taken down 

(7) 



when the society built a new one on Bedford Street. 
From there they moved to Boylston Street, where 
the Second Church is now, with Mr. Van Ness as its 
minister. Your pulpit certainly was Henry Ware's, 
and in it my father was ordained." 

The desk in the Sunday-school room below has 
been occupied by many eminent men. It was formerly 
the pulpit in the old Orthodox Congregational church 
in Woburn. When the society moved into their new 
church home, the building was sold to the Unitarians. 
I was a girl at school in Woburn during the palmy 
days of the Lyceum. Lyceum Hall was not then 
built, and in the vestry of the Congregational church 
those who attended the Lyceum assembled, as it had 
the largest seating capacity of any place, except the 
church room above. 

But when the great lights came, — and they were 
always coming then, as now, — it was often expedient to 
adjourn to the church room above. When Mr. Barnes 
was preaching at the Woburn Unitarian Church, this 
pulpit was received by us at the time we made the 
vestry, in the early seventies, I think. From that 
pulpit I have heard speak, A. L, Stone, a former 
minister of Park Street Church, gifted John Pierpont, 
two ministers that our soldiers, in the Civil War, 
loved so well, Thomas Starr King, Anson Burlingame, 
at one time our commissioner to China, Governors 

(8) 



Banks and Boutwell, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Presi- 
dent Felton, Agassiz, Roswell D. Hitchcock, an emi- 
nent Hebrew scholar, Edward Chapin, who charmed 
us with his eloquence, Richard Salter Storrs, that 
prince of preachers ; and most wonderful of all to me 
were Henry Ward Beecher, who took us right along 
with him, and made us laugh or cry at will, and 
Charles Sumner, who spoke for nearly two hours 
on the dignity and practicability of the anti-slavery 
enterprise, and the time seemed but fifteen minutes, 
he had such a hold upon us. We are pleased to 
differ from the Second Church in Boston and the 
church in Woburn in this respect: when we " fix over " 
our meeting-house we hold on to our old pulpits 
with their many associations. One of the parishioners 
here, Miss Abby Jaquith, has recently performed, in 
a beautiful way, a delightful labor of love, " Memory's 
Tribute," — selected words of a former revered minister, 
Rev. Christopher C. Hussey, which she has given us 
in book form ; and in recalling the names of some 
who formerly worshipped here, it seems most appro- 
priate that they be introduced to you in his words : 
" Often as you gather in this house of worship, you 
can see around you, in seats vacant, those who worked 
and worshipped, prayed and suffered and enjoyed 
in the midst of these scenes. Their invisible monu- 
ments builded by deeds of goodness remain." 

(9) 



At the time this church was new, the deacons were 
Samuel Whiting and Ralph Hill. Deacon Whiting 
was a soldier of the Revolution, an honored citizen, 
and deeply interested in the welfare of this church. 
The same was equally true of his associate, Deacon 
Ralph Hill. In the " seating of the meeting-house," 
soon after Deacon Hill's death, his widow was given 
a sitting " in ye fore seat below." It was an ancient 
custom here, a Sunday or two before Thanksgiving, 
to take a contribution, so that the poor of the town 
should have an abundant Thanksgiving dinner ; and 
Col. John Parker, the grandfather of our Mr. Charles 
Henry Parker, always looked out that his own contri- 
bution should be large enough to cover all unexpected 
needs. Mr. Nathan Mears always retained an interest 
in this church and town after he left for another home. 
His gifts to this community before his death testify 
to this ; and the same may be said of Mr. John 
Corbin Hutchins. 

Judge Locke, whose home was at the Hillhurst, was 
not only a noted but a just judge. Later on, this 
place became the home of Mr. Joel Richardson. 
Marshall Preston, whose home was where our minister 
now lives, was an honest lawyer who always advised 
people not to go to law but settle their disputes 
among themselves. Later on, Marshall Preston's house 
became the home of Lyman Haynes ; and as I am 

(lO) 



only speaking of those who have passed on, I cannot 
in this connection speak of the benefactions of the 
children of Lyman Haynes to this community. Dr. 
Zadoc Howe has his permanent monument among us 
in the Howe School, which he founded, leaving his 
money for this purpose. The town erected a memorial 
to his memory in our old South Burying Ground. I 
well remember what a vision of brightness Dr. Howe's 
sleigh made upon the snowy landscape, as I stood, a 
child of eight years, one cold winter morning, in the 
doorway of the old yellow schoolhouse in South Bil- 
lerica. For you must know that the sleighs of those 
days were high-backed and invariably of a tawny 
yellow, dull blue, or dingy brown ; and if one was a 
little more " forehanded," as they expressed it, than his 
neighbors, that fact was often emphasized by a white 
border (never more than half an inch wide) around 
the top of the sleigh. Dr. Howe's sleigh was a bright 
scarlet, and what there was of it bore about as much 
resemblance to others then in use as the first monitor 
in the Civil War did to a regular ship of the line. It 
consisted of a pair of runners, to which was attached 
a semi-circular chair for a seat, and had one shaft. 
Below the chair was a box seat to hold the large, 
green woollen bag, in which his medicine was kept. It 
was always a mystery to us who were children then, 
why the bottles did not get broken, and the pills, 

(11) 



powders, and squills get mixed. His horse was white, 
and its name was Bony, and we used to wonder why 
such a nice-looking horse should have such a name. 
Years after we found out that Bony was a diminutive 
for Bonaparte. No one enjoyed a joke better than the 
" beloved physician." 

Soon after the town hall was finished, the one burned 
in 1893, ^^ old-fashioned tea party was held in it. Dr. 
Howe contributed an immense frosted cake, in three 
tiers, requesting that it should not be cut until the close 
of the tea party. With some of my schoolmates I hov- 
ered around in the vicinity of that cake nearly all the 
evening, hoping to get a large piece of the frosting, and 
it was one of the disappointments of our lives when we 
ascertained that the cake was only three inverted paste- 
board boxes, the frosting was white wrapping paper, 
the seams being covered with conventional designs in 
little pink and white sugarplums, all being done by the 
good doctor himself, skilfully enough to deceive the 
" very elect." Dr. Joseph Hill was for a long time the 
organist here. While those good men, Deacon Jere- 
miah Crosby and Deacon James Faulkner, were dea- 
cons here, the families of Thomas Shedd, Amasa 
Holden, Jonathan Hill, Samuel Cole, William Whit- 
ford, Harvey Crosby, Franklin Jaquith, and Jefferson 
Cutter worshipped here. Many of these came a long 
distance, but were promptly in their pews and gave 

(^12) 



liberally of their substance to carry on the good work 

of this parish. And the sons and daughters of these 

families love to come up to this old hill town to recall 

events of other days. Mr. Paul Hill and his gifted son 

Frederick made life more pleasant for us all, while they 

were with us. 

Deacon Mark L.und, who has recently entered into 

rest, full of years and Christian graces, could say of this 

church, — 

" I love Thy Kingdom, Lord, 

The house of Thine abode." 

Dr. Jonathan Bowers' home was where Dr. Savage now 
lives. After Dr. and Mrs. Bowers died their four chil- 
dren, all unmarried, each lived to a good old age, — 
Priscilla, Polly, Fanny, and William. Polly and Fanny 
attended church here ; Priscilla attended the Baptist 
Church, to which she left her money. These sisters 
had a wonderful flower garden ; many here remember 
the stately hollyhocks, foxgloves and crown imperials. 
Polly was a unique character, the first woman in town 
to wear a hat, I presume, not like the dainty ones of 
to-day, but her brother's old palm-leaf one that had 
seen service for a series of years in his hayfield. With 
that upon her head and his thick cowhide boots on, she 
was a familiar figure to many here. She had a white 
dress, made of sheeting, with " Merrimack Mills " in 
large, blue letters upon it, which she wore when and 

(13) 



where she pleased. Yet she had many nice things. 
We remember her pretty white silk bonnet, and won- 
dered why she wore it when her face was wrinkled, and 
she not a bride. She had a most accommodating way 
of wearing her rings to church on the outside of her 
gloves, and of placing her hand so the little girls could 
look at them when tired of listening to the minister, 
Polly and Fanny were ahead of their time ; others have 
given of their abundance, but they gave their all to the 
town of Billerica as a fund, the interest to be used for 
the poor. And the " Bowers fund," when rightly ad- 
ministered, is an angel of comfort in homes of sickness 
and want. 

To-day, in the midst of our joy, I must confess to 
our shortcoming as a town, and with others I hang 
my head in very shame to-day because we have no 
public memorial of them to point out to our guests on 
this occasion. Reverently we mention them to-day, 
Polly and Fanny Bowers ! Blessed be their names for- 
ever ! Mr. Gardner Parker, father of Fred H. and J. 
Nelson Parker, was long active in town affairs, a trustee 
of our Howe School, one of the committee for the erec- 
tion of our soldiers' monument, and their good friend 
during the Civil War. Mr. Parker's sister, Mrs. Clarissa 
Osborn, gave her beautiful strawberry garden for the 
site of the Bennett Library, and she gave herself to 
every good work in the village, and was " Aunt 

(H) 



Clarissa " to many of us not a bit of kin. Mr. and 
Mrs. Calvin Rogers, father and mother of Miss Harriet 
Rogers, and their daughter, Miss Eliza, have an abiding 
memory in our hearts to-day. Miss Eliza and her 
cousin, Mrs. Belle Faulkner Ranlett, daughter of Dea. 
and Mrs. Luther Faulkner, were both interested 
deeply in our Sunday school. During Mrs. Rogers' 
long life of ninety-five years she was full of good works. 
Mr. Hussey once told me she always kept him sup- 
plied with money for unexpected wants in parish work. 
The long life of Mrs. Joshua Bennett was full of 
deeds of helpfulness. This church was a frequent 
recipient of her bounty. 

To her generous munificence we owe our library, 
which bears her name, and her daughters, Mrs. Ellen B. 
Holden, mother of Joshua B. Holden, and Mrs. Rebecca 
B. Warren helped furnish the building and supply it 
with books. William Wilkins Warren, the son-in-law 
of Mrs. Bennett gave the fireplace and mantel in 
the reading-room of the library. There were three 
men who kept the store where Mr. F. A. Morey now 
is, who had a deep interest in this society. The first 
of these, Col. John Baldwin, father of Miss Lizzie 
Baldwin, was the treasurer of this parish for over forty 
years and without any expense to the society. The 
mantle of his interest in the parish fell upon his 
daughter, Miss Sarah, who also had a pleasant way of 

(»5) 



remembering the nephews and nieces of other people 
at Christmas time, as well as her own. Col. Baldwin's 
son, John, Jr., succeeded his father in the store, and he 
and his excellent wife gave proof of their regard for 
this church after they went to their Chicago home. 
Next in the store was Sylvester Hill; he knew every 
girl and boy in the village who came into the store, that 
had no money to spend for candy, and calling them by 
the same endearing name that he used in addressing his 
own little ones, he patted them on the head with one 
hand and gave them candy with the other. And who 
of us will ever forget his wife, Mrs. Abby Hill, with her 
wondrous gift of song, so freely given to this church 
for many years. There are those here to-day who can 
tell you how she came to their sick-rooms and sang 
"Consider the Lilies" as no one else in Billerica 
could have done it. And in other days there was one 
with us whose reputation was not confined to town 
limits or State bounds, whose name was a household 
word throughout the community, —his Excellency, 
Thomas Talbot, governor of Massachusetts, he had 
other titles here in the home of his adoption, — a citi- 
zen who always looked out for the best needs of our 
town, regardless of personal interests ; men older than 
himself looked to him for counsel. He was the pro- 
moter of every good cause, the generous supporter not 
only of this church, but also of every church in town, 

(16) 



and the friend of the poor, and it was a sad day for 
Billerica when he was laid to rest, for we all lovetl 
him. Mr. Ambrose Page, who lived in what was for- 
merly the " Sabba'-day house," had a pleasant way of 
welcoming strangers to town by the gift of a rosebush 
or tree from his nursery, and the tallest shade tree 
towering above the roof of one home in our midst 
helps, in that home, to kee^) his memory green. Mr. 
John Knowles, father of our Knowles sisters, and Mr. 
Joel Baldwin could always be depended ui)on for atten- 
tive listeners on stormy as well as pleasant Sundays, 
Many positions of trust and responsibility were held by 
Dudley Foster, Esq., father of Mr. John Foster. He 
was one of the trustees of the Howe School ; the coun- 
sellor of all his neighbors in time of sorrow, and that 
without pay; the trusted treasurer of our town for 
forty-four years, and its town clerk for nearly the same 
length of time. The Richardson brothers, John O. 
and Albert R., with their sister, Mrs. Abigail Gray, 
were all faithful friends of this parish, with especial 
interest in the church choir, and their gifts to this 
church were many. 

Mrs. Lucy Walker Jaquith, the honored mother of 
Franklin and Joseph Jaquith and sisters, when she went 
to her " better home," over a year ago, was the oldest 
member of this church in years and the oldest in years 
of church membership, having united with this church 

(17) 



under the pastorate of Rev. Theodore Dorr, a con- 
sistent church member for fifty-four years, and quite 
hkely longer. Samuel Tucker, the principal of our 
Howe School for twenty-eight years, was an example of 
uprightness to every pupil who came under his charge, 
and his interest in them did not cease when they left the 
school, but when they went out into the different walks 
of life he could truly say to each one, "Your success is 
my success and your joy my joy." Miss Mattie Hussey, 
the daughter of our former pastor, was a faithful teacher 
in our school and the interested superintendent of our 
Sunday school for many years, and is affectionately 
remembered by many here to-day. Last November the 
summons " Come up higher " came to the pastor emeri- 
tus of this church, one who had faithfully served at this 
altar for twenty-eight years. Many eulogistic words 
have been said respecting him, but we bring the humble 
violet of affectionate remembrance for his memory to- 
day. His pastoral calls twice in a year in every home 
in his parish, and more often if there were sickness or 
sorrow, are events of precious memory. He was a 
power for good in this community, and to his people he 
always gave his best. It was the right word, at the right 
time, in the right place, socially, morally, religiously. 
" The christening was a tender jubilee, the marriage was 
no ceremony, but an inspiration, the comfort was no 

service, but a psalm." 

(IS) 



All those whose traits I have mentioned have passed 
on, but I trust that the successor of Christopher Hussey, 
our present minister, will find that the " Aarons and 
Hurs " are not all on the other side, — and you can 
spell the Hur with an " e " instead of a " u," and it will 
be all right. We are a united people to-day, and we 
mean to be loyal to our church and our minister. And 
I speak for the entire parish when I say that we feel 
that the religious needs of this old church are safe in 
the charge of our young shepherd. And in his daily 
addresses to the Throne of Grace I doubt not that he 
remembers this building, in words akin to those of the 
Rev. Philemon Hall on an occasion similar to this, — 
the re-dedication of his own church. And the beauti- 
ful words of the prayer to which I refer are these : 
" Lord, remember this thine ancient temple, where our 
fathers worshipped before we were. Let Thy truth be 
its walls, salvation be its bulwarks, and may there be 
heard within its gates the joy of those that shout in 

harvest." 

Martha Hill Sage. 

June 30, 1898. 



(19) 



man ** iyu4 



5 9 , . •.ili-i" 




'M^0i: ^""^ ^SK^ ^\ °^y^i^^ ^^\ ^. 



o V 







. "i. " " " -. -^^ 



x^-^^ 






llllf- 







C, vP 







"^O 



-^^0^ 



'b V 



















^ 0^ '!f- 



■0? **• 






>1>^' '-n 



^-^<^^^ 



'/% -^^^i^,' /'\ ^^yi%<' ^^^% 






>P'^^. 






,.^ 



kv 









,^/ 



^O. 



o 'o . . ' A 



'^-^^* .y^ % ^'T'^: 



-^^0^ 









^^ 









"'-'* .<" -„, -X. 




. . ^ < 



.■^^ 









0' 



-?' 



-^..*^ 

.3^% 



•' .<.y 






0' 



-^ 









.>-^. 



\ 


.**^ 


c ^ , ° * 


'.\ 


♦X 


^^ ' 


■ V 


v^ 


o 


V 




, V 


^0 


^ * 


/^^' 








^ c 


V 


/^ 


p' rRCTHEt 


X 




1 LIBri? 


■ o'hCING CO . 


::^ 





.V-^^-. 



